


We Gather Stones

by likeromeoandjuliet



Series: Like a Folk Song [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Long Distance Relationship, Smut, all things nice, i promise they’ll be ok eventually, same two idiots but it’s college now, the sequel, they’re just angsty little bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeromeoandjuliet/pseuds/likeromeoandjuliet
Summary: They don’t break up.Jughead isn’t entirely sure what any of that means. He’s not even sure they haven’t. But admittedly, they haven’t broken up, not really. But he thinks they will.The summer hadn’t been kind to them. It’s really just a whole bunch of luck that they had made it out this far, that he hadn’t imploded just from seeing her and not being able to touch her, to love her in the eyes of everyone. In the end, they’re still a secret and her friends are still her friends, his father is still passed out on the couch and he still loves her. It feels like they’re back to square one but it’s entirely more devastating. He feels like his heart is in his throat most of the time, his life is a little suffocating....The Sequel to “Only Seventeen”. High school is long gone. Secrets aren’t the only problem anymore.
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Series: Like a Folk Song [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932334
Comments: 39
Kudos: 111
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. My Tears Ricochet

We Gather Stones 

They don’t break up. 

Jughead isn’t entirely sure what any of that means. He’s not even sure they haven’t. But admittedly, they haven’t broken up, not really. But he thinks they will. 

The summer hadn’t been kind to them. It’s really just a whole bunch of luck that they had made it out this far, that he hadn’t imploded just from seeing her and not being able to touch her, to love her in the eyes of everyone. In the end, they’re still a secret and her friends are still her friends, his father is still passed out on the couch and he still loves her. It feels like they’re back to square one but it’s entirely more devastating. He feels like his heart is in his throat most of the time, his life is a little suffocating. 

There were moments. Flashes of the unadulterated happiness she brings him and then the emptiness when she’s gone or when they’re in public and she pulls away from him, when her mother calls and she lies, perfectly, in practiced skill. It hurts and she heals him and she smiles at him and he feels like they can do it, they can be okay. Whatever happens, they can hold on for a little longer. 

But their summer is still the same, as the last one. It’s a secret. It’s plans and lies and sometimes he can’t tune it out and they fight. And she cries, she tells him she can’t do it, she can’t tell people, her mother. His chest hurts and he tells he’ll forget, tells her he’ll try harder to not let it get to him and she tells him it’s really fucking unfair that he has to. 

“What do you want to do then? You want to break up?” 

The question usually sobers her up. And then she’s on him, lips on his, saying she loves him so much it almost hurts and that being without him is like losing a limb. And she stays the night. He allows himself to get lost in her. It happens a few times over the course of the summer. He pretends that they can have this. Then summer is gone and he truly believes they can. 

College. She’s going to New York, he’s going to Chicago. It’s an eleven hour drive, a couple of hours on a plane, they discuss it. She tells him, with an excited smile on her face that they can be  them  in college, that he can come to New York and hold her hand and she can go to Chicago and they can go to bars and he can introduce her to whatever friends he makes there as his girlfriend. He loses the momentum of discussing long distance. That, one problem might be taken out of the equation, but another jumps in. That in Riverdale, it’s still a secret, Alice is paying for Betty’s tuition, she can’t afford to lose that. And he feels envy of that security. 

The first time he takes the drive, the absolute freedom of knowing that they’re having dinner in a restaurant sends bursts of electricity through his body. And he also learns that it’s a really long drive and his father’s beat up truck is almost a little too beat up for it. His father had given it away to him the day he left for college. He doesn’t know wether to be thankful or not but it’s getting him to Betty. 

He’s thankful for FaceTime and that the WiFi in his dorm is actually good. They talk every night and watch Netflix together like they had that first summer. He tells her what he’s been writing, even sends her an incredibly sappy letter about missing her, he tells her about what it’s like to be somewhere that’s not Riverdale and that’s opened his eyes to new possibilities. Sometimes they talk for hours and they regret it in the morning, coffee is an even better friend now than it had been in high school. But they need those hours too. Sometimes he just watches her fall asleep because that’s there’s nothing else to say, imagining his fingers caressing her face. 

Betty’s happy. Somewhat. He notices that sometimes the smile she presents to him falters and it’s all in her eyes, the small cracks. She tells him she misses him, that sometimes it feels like too much to bear and she peeps at Chicago’s school programs, which had been an option for her, just not the top of the list. She thinks about it a lot, switching schools just for him and then he reminds her of how excited she is about her program in New York, how he can tell she loves it. He’s not a reason for her to do that. She argues fervently about it sometimes. 

“It has the same ranking! What difference would it make?!” 

“You are switching schools in the middle of the semester just for me!” He shakes his head. 

“Don’t you get it?! This fucking sucks! I miss you!” She’s not exactly yelling. Her roommate is probably nearby. 

“No. We are not gonna be the couple.” 

“Oh please, since when do you care about that?” 

“Betts, reason with me here.” He breathes out, exasperated. “You like where you’re at, I like it here too. It’s three years and then-“

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll see what happens. Who knows where life will take us.” He shrugs. He can tell that the answer isn’t enough but he’s not gonna let her change something so fundamentally huge just for me, though it selfishly brings a little bit of comfort, that maybe she’s just as lonely as him. “I love you, okay?” 

There’s a sigh of defeat on the other side of the line. “I love you too.” She tells him quietly. 

Who knows where life will take them. Three years and they’ll see what happens next. For now, there’s eleven hour drives and phone calls and finals and Riverdale is still haunted by their secret and every bit of pain the streets bring them. 

He’s waiting outside her dorm building, the truck parked out front where Betty assures him he can park because they’re walking to the restaurant. He occupies himself with watching the world around him, imagining Betty walking these streets. He imagines her by the tree, waiting on the crosswalk for the light to turn green and he feels all this with a sort of nostalgia for something he’s never had, never seen, never felt. He feels all this with a desolate knowledge that she’s living a life without him here, just as he’s living without her. 

“Jughead Jones.” He hears behind him and he turns. Before he has a chance to say anything back, she jumps into his arms, kissing his lips, passionately. 

It’s breathing in air after being underwater for so long. Here with her, in this very moment, he wants to freeze it and stay here forever. “Fuck, I missed you.” He whispers when they pull away. 

“I missed you.” She pecks his lips. “So much.” It’s difficult to ever let her out of his arms, his grip tightening a little as her forehead touches his, eyes closing, grounding himself again. 

He’s staying the weekend. A couple of days with her. And it’s there again, that feeling he gets, of invincibility. These moments with her, at a restaurant, walking down the street with her, are moments that give him a glimpse into what can be their future. They just need to hold on like they had their senior year, hope for better days, for a better time, a less complicated situation. 

Those days with her in New York are easy. In New York, they aren’t a secret. Betty introduces him to her roommate as her boyfriend and he can’t help the glee he feels at the proud smile on his girlfriend’s face. Her roommate is a sweet girl, Nancy, whose walls are littered with drawings. She’s an artist, Betty’s sent him drawings she made of her and he’s always a bit amazed someone could just do that with a pencil. When he compliments her and tells her just that, she says Betty’s read her a short story he wrote for a magazine that had been published and she’s amazed people can write like that.

He likes Nancy, likes that Betty’s getting along with people who are actually nice, making friends that aren’t like her previous ones. He mentions it offhandedly, Betty looks uncomfortable by the comment so he kisses the frown off her face and tries to make her forget about it. She doesn’t argue. In fact, for those days with her, there’s a lot of things they don’t talk about. 

Riverdale. Her friends. The distance. The limited time they have. How things aren’t simple. And he misses her. And hates it when they don’t talk for a whole day. How he’s scared he’s a little too dependent on her for his happiness. 

It’s scary thing. To love her so much. The notion that it doesn’t seem to let up and he just keeps falling deeper in love with her. 

As much as Jughead wishes he could not think about it, all he wants is for time to pick up and fast forward to ending up with her, at the end. When the dust settles and they can just be. 

•

They fight. There’s a month in the middle of their freshmen year where all they can do is fight. And it physically hurts. They fight about stupid things like him not texting her back for a whole day, or the fact that whenever she’s over Chicago, she always leaves her hair ties everywhere and he even found a hair tie in his briefs, inside his drawer. Then they fight about her mother, how she hurts Betty, how Betty keeps falling into the dark abyss of thinking she’s worthless, how she keeps letting her win. And then there’s the fights about his father. She says he lets his father define him. His fears, his insecurities. It makes him wish he hadn’t let her see him through so easily. 

Because that’s the truth. They begin to see each other so clearly and the truth hurts, knowing she’s right when she talks about him and his father, when she calls him out when she sees he’s pushing her away. She knows him, can see through him whenever he tries to pretend to be something else. It’s hard to lie to her. It’s hard to be anything than what he is with her and it frightens him. He’s never had that. He’s always been a master at being in the shadows, of building a wall to not let people in. 

“What exactly do you expect me to do, Jughead?” She blows out a breath and throws another piece of clothing into the suitcase without much care for it, it frustrates him more than he cares to admit, aggravating the way he’s feeling. 

“I don’t know, tell her you can’t be there!” 

“It’s still my mother, Jughead!” 

“Your abusive one, you mean! Is this it? You’re gonna let her manipulate you? Anytime she says she’s depressed, you’ll run to her?”

“Fuck You.” She snaps. “She’s alone. In that house. Everyone’s left.” 

“After everything she’s done to you...” He shakes his head. “You know we won’t see each other for the next few months, right?” 

“You can’t seriously be throwing that in my face right now!” Her aggressive clothes tossing stops and she turns to him, fire in her eyes. “Should I just take a page from your book and leave my alcoholic father to fend for himself?!” She doesn’t mean that, she knows this hurts him, she knows just what to say to hurt him and sometimes he wants to hate her for it. “Fuck.” She sobers up, eyes widening. “That’s not what I meant.” 

He laughs bitterly. “Good thing I’m not like you. At least I don’t pretend my abusive parent was never abusive. Go on, be the perfect daughter, Betty. You’re good at playing the part.” 

The worst part of it all is that he knows how to hurt her too. 

She hears a sigh of defeat and she seems tired, tears in her eyes as she stares at him for a second. “Why do we do this to each other?” She questions quietly, sitting on his bed with her face buried in her hand. “I’m sorry for saying those things.” Her voice hoarse, his heart aches in his chest and he sits beside her.

“I’m sorry too.” He whispers. 

“Maybe we do need a break.” She confesses and this time, he doesn’t want to convince she’s wrong. He knows she’s right. It’s like it’s all coming to a head. “I know I take it too far sometimes. I know I say things I don’t mean. You...make me go crazy, Jug.” She sniffles. “I love you so much. Most of time I think I can’t live without you. But maybe we should. It always comes down to the things we try to ignore and this fight isn’t just about my mother or me going to see her.”

He sits in silence for a second. Sitting next to her, loving her, his heart feels heavy in his chest and the freight train they’d been on is approaching the end of the line. 

“I can never give you what you deserve.” She murmurs. “I thought once we were out of Riverdale, this could be enough.” 

“I never thought being away from you would be so hard. But I don’t want this to end.” He confesses, shifting closer to her so his forehead rests on her shoulder. He feels her breathe out. “I love you too much to accept this is it.” 

Her breath hitches, he’s sure breathing feels as hard to her as it does to him. “It’s not...it. But we need a break from each other or just some time to get it together and then we’ll talk about all this...” 

When her suitcase is closed by his bed, he kisses her goodbye like it’s the last time while hoping it’s not and she kisses him back with as much passion, lips lingering before getting out his door. 

•

It’s not until two weeks later, apart from a few text convos, that they talk. Jughead throws caution to the wind and calls her because he misses her voice too much and it feels like something’s missing every morning he wakes with the question of wether they’re over or not. It doesn’t have to be this complicated, he realizes, maybe it’s not that difficult to make it through this rough patch. What they need is trust and to say all that they’re feeling and communicate and then just hold on to what they have because it’s worth it. He doesn’t want to be without her. 

He wants this suffocating feeling he gets to disappear. He wants to be happy and be carefree with her again like the beginning. In the Blue and Gold, in her car, in his trailer. He wants to love her again without worrying if it’s enough. 

“I should’ve called earlier.” Jughead tells her.

“No, no, I could’ve called too. We...needed this time.” 

He sighs softly. “How are you?” 

“I’ve been crying a lot. This doesn’t feel very good.” 

“No. No, it doesn’t.” It feels everything other than good. “How’s your mom?” He asks after a beat. 

“She’s...in bed. I think she’s selling her part of the Register to my dad.” Betty explains. “I was only there for a day, I couldn’t...stay longer.” The part about how her mother makes her feel is explicit. “I went back to the city, Nancy and I had few girl nights, had a lot of wine and that cheese you loved last time you were here.” 

He chuckles softly. “The French one?”

“Yeah, it made me think of you.” 

There’s a pause and Jughead can feel his throat tightening, closing his eyes to focus on anything other than that. “I miss you.” He whispers into the phone. 

“I miss you too.” 

He listens to her breathing in the other side of the line, eyes closed, imagining her face. 

“I don’t want to be without you.” She tells him. “But I also don’t it to be like this. I don’t want to fight you. I’m tired of fighting.” She pauses for a moment and he can’t for the life of him figure out where this is going. “There’s a lot of things that we need to talk about. I want this to work, and it won’t be easy. But I want to fight for us. It’s worth it.” 

He breathes out a sigh of relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” 

“You thought I wouldn’t want to?” 

“I....I did. I thought you were breaking up with me, to be honest.”

“I wouldn’t give up that easily, not after everything we’ve been through.” 

“I’m sorry I thought you would.” 

“I’m sorry I made you think I would.”

“We’re both sorry for a lot of things, huh?” He smiles softly and hears a huff of laughter. “No more saying sorry, then. We just have to be better. I’ll be better, Betts.” He promises. 

•

The next time he sees her it’s on Christmas break. Betty’s family is not in a very jolly spirit and he had given up on going home, so the day after Christmas, Betty flies to Chicago, her mother not even arguing when she tells her she has school work, another lie suitable for all things mom. Anything to get away and to see him. 

They’d been steadily talking. A lot more carefully, a lot more clearly too. Jughead thinks it’s getting better, that they’re getting better, deciding to put less pressure on their relationship. For now, they could simply talk, like they did in the beginning when they were learning each other. And slowly, it becomes a little easier to just be. There’s still a lot they need to discuss but they don’t have to until they’re face to face, until they have more time.

When she arrives at his dorm room, though, he has every intention to fully declare everything he’s been longing to say, but the minute the door opens, Betty’s lips are on his and he can’t think of anything else other than her body against his. He’s glad his roommate has a healthy relationship with family in that moment, because it doesn’t take long for clothes to get discarded, forgotten on the floor of his dorm. It’s heavy and passionate like every second counts to showing each other what they feel like. 

“I missed you.” He murmurs, propping her up on his desk, biting her lower lip. “So fucking much.” He places a kiss to her neck, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. “Every inch of you.” He kisses down her body, pulling her pants down along with her panties. He stares up at her, kissing her thighs, she looks so deliciously his in that moment. And fuck, now that’s he’s getting a good look at her, exposed in front of his mouth, breathing heavily, moaning with each wet kiss he imprints on her skin, he feels whole again. Looking at her for the first time in months, his heart beats with more ease. 

“Jug.” She breathes out, when he’s getting too lost in the sight of her. 

“What?” 

“Get on with it.” She grins. Laughing, he obeys her wishes, lifting her leg so it sits on his shoulder, caressing her skin up to her pantie line. A gasp leaves her mouth when he touches her, running his fingers across her wet folds. “Jug, please.” 

“So ready for me.” He rasps, his mouth is hovering over her, his warm breath has her eyes on him, fire in her eyes, he’s learnt everything about that look and he knows she wants him, needs him.

He’s missed every inch of her, the way he can feel her desperate need for release. Gripping her hips, he works her up, her hands entangled in his hair. His briefs are getting tighter, every sound she makes only getting him more and more turned on. 

“I want you inside me.” Betty breathes out. “I need you close to me.” He feels his heart in his throat as he stands on his feet, lifting her up and carrying her over to the bed. He brushes her hair out of her face, as if he could somehow tell her all his heart wants to say with just a look. After months, she’s here, in his arms again and it leaves him with an ache in his chest for what comes next. Betty pulls him down to her, lips brushing against his and he forgets the future for a moment, only her on his mind, only her lips and her body. “These need to go.” She smirks, he’s glad the sweatpants are so easy to discard. He leans down to capture her lips again, never getting enough of her. 

When he finally sinks into her, it feels like his little bit of heaven on earth. And he’s missed it, missed every moment he’s ever had with her and after these hellish months of not knowing how to fix this, of being in a suffocating nightmare, tired of fighting, it’s the only thing that has felt truly right. To live this moment with her, is everything he’s wished for. 

Her nails dig into his back as he thrusts into her, finding a rhythm. It’s hard not to get lost in her, his name falling from her lips, followed by a string of curse words that sound divine to him. He picks up the pace, his own grunts and moans sounding in her ear. It’s the same rush over and over again, every time, it’s better than their beginning, he knows her now, knows her body, but there’s always something deeper whenever he’s inside her. Maybe it’s the writer in him, maybe it’s fact that he knows for certain that there can’t be someone else out in the world for him because it can’t possibly compare. But she takes his body as much as she takes his soul in those moments of pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck.” He growls, losing the pace as he gets closer and closer. “Betts.” 

“Jug, I’m close.” She breathes out, moaning. 

“Come for me, Betty.” He tells her and she’s gone for.

“Jug,”

Her climax prompts his own, shockwaves cursing through his body as he comes inside her, getting the release he had craved all these months. He climbs off of her, both of them breathing heavily. 

Her eyes are on him, as they catch their breath and she smiles, moving to press a kiss to his lips. “Shower?” She asks him and he nods, unable to stop the giddy feeling in his chest at having her back. Serious conversations could wait a moment. He was going to hold a slice of perfection for a few more hours. 

It’s nice to be close to her, like this, water running down them as they hold each other. It reminds him of their first weekend at Betty’s house, it’s a sick dejavu, he thinks. Back then, it’d been them pretending they could have it their way for a few days. Now they could. For a moment, everything was okay and they could just be with each other. 

Betty’s eyes watch his face and he looks down at her. “Hi.” She smiles softly. 

“Hi.” He whispers back, breathing out. “Nice looking at you.” 

Betty huffs out a laugh, though he can see everything else in her eyes, what he means reflected back to him, all the feelings they’d been swimming through, here between them. Her eyes tear up, his heart aches in his chest and he cups her cheeks. “Baby.” He chokes out. “Betts.”

She buries her forehead in his chest, sniffling. “I don’t wanna do this tonight.” She says. Lifting her head up to look at him, he sighs out. “Let’s just...be us, please.” 

“Betty...” Her pleading eyes stop him from wanting to see it through and he nods. “Okay.” He murmurs. “Okay.” 

They lie together in his twin bed, wrapped up in each other, the quietness of the room contrasting the harsh weather outside, the cold outside making every moment of warmth feel safer, kinder. His fingers trace her features, her eyes closed, there’s freedom in his heart to love her like this. And he doesn’t deny the simple request she made. 

“Remember in the summer, when you and I went to the reservoir?” She questions, eyes opening. 

“I do.” He smiles softly. “Why?”

“I wish we had taken a picture of that day.” She murmurs. “You looked so happy.” He doesn’t want to ask why she’s thinking about that. “I want to make you happy like that again.” Her voice is veiled in sleep, he can tell she’s tired. 

“You do.” He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You make me so happy.” 

“Not always.” She frowns. 

“No. Not always.” He pulls her closer. “But you’re always the best part of every day.” 

“I want you forever.” 

He huffs out a small laugh. “You have no idea.” 

They don’t wake up until lunch time. They’d stayed up, neither of them wanting to fall asleep and miss this time in between everything. He wakes first and watches her. In his arms, asleep, she looks so peaceful. She looks so distant from every little something that worries her mind. The feeling he gets, back in this bubble of just her and him, is like being home again. He’s missed her so much. 

They order Chinese and sit on his bed. His laptop playing a true crime documentary they’d both wanted to watch. But his mind is elsewhere. On the fact that they need to talk things through, what happened wasn’t nothing and if they want to do things right, then they need to talk through it. 

“Betts...” He murmurs. And she turns her head towards him. There’s a pause, a beat that passes as she recognizes the look on his face. 

“I know.” She sighs softly and he reaches for her hand. “I don’t know where to start this.” He lets out a chuckle and she smiles. “Everything feels so trivial after not talking to you for so long. I know it’s not, but...”

“I get it.” He nods. 

“I’m telling my mother.” 

His eyes widen. “What?”

“I’m telling her about you. I don’t want this to be a secret. I think she’s mellowed out, that she doesn’t want to lose more people and if she does turn on me, so be it. You matter more.” 

“Betty-“

“It’s ok.” She squeezes his hand in hers. “You deserve more than what I’ve given you. And I need you to know that you always have and I’ve just been too scared.” 

“She abused you, Betty, you were right to be scared.” As he tells her that, her face shifts into a knowing expression, one he knows means that she sees it now, even if she refused the truth so many times before. 

“You were right.” Betty murmurs. “I wanted to believe that she loved me despite everything but my mother doesn’t know how to love and I’ve accepted it. Because now I know what real love feels like. I feel it with you.” 

Her statement echoes in his heart. And he wills himself not to breakdown at the sentiment. A feeling he knows so well. A truth. What they have is real love. Worth fighting for.

“Sometimes you have to put yourself first.” She murmurs. “What I said about your father, I...you didn’t leave him. You left a bad situation. He’s the terrible father. Just like my mom. It was never your fault and I’m sorry I said those things.” 

He sighs softly. “We both said things we didn’t mean. We can put it behind us, yeah?” There’s a pause in the conversation, as she reaches to caress his cheek. “It’s been a hard couple of months but we can do it, okay?”

“I know.” She nods. “Two more years and we’ll see where it takes us, right?” 

“Two more years.” 


	2. Leaving Like a Father

They ring in the New Year in an apartment of someone neither of them know in New York City. Jughead kisses her lips in the shape of a promise and she loses herself in him, in the middle of all the cheers and happy New Years. She’s a little tipsy and his cheeks are flushed and she feels unadulterated joy. Someone yells that they can almost see the ball from the kitchen window. Betty doesn’t think it’s worth letting go of him to go see the event. Instead, she’s wrapped up around him.

“I love you.” He murmurs in her ear. And then pulls back to smile at her. Things feel good. This feels like a good start to a new year and she feels hopeful for perhaps the first time in a while.

She presses her lips to his again. Kissing him slowly.

“Cooper, get a room!” Chuck, Nancy’s boyfriend, yells with a grin. She promptly flips them off, feeling Jughead’s laugh vibrating through his chest, pulled up against him.

Jughead looks down at her with a grin when she pulls away. She wants to desperately keep that smile just like that, wants to keep this feeling forever. After this year, adjusting to the distance, fighting, after everything they’d been through, it felt right to brave into this year like this, in his arms, a giddy feeling in her heart.

“Happy New Year, Jug.” She tells him.

“I want every New Years to be with you.” He says in the sweetest way, his eyes vulnerable even as they stand in a crowed room.

“Yeah?”

“It turns out I’m pretty in love with you.” He huffs out a soft laugh. “And I don’t I’ll ever stop.”

“Jug.” Her face softens and she gulps down her emotions, the alcohol and the love she feels not holding any filter for how great it is to be loved by him.

Her hand caresses his cheek, noticing the small stubble that wasn’t there when they met, another evidence of how they’ve grown together. Their faces growing older, transitioning together into a new part of life, into new parts of themselves. Perhaps love is staying, choosing to discover and learn and fall in love with new things everyday. People are not immutable. We are intrinsically ever changing, adaptable to circumstance, vulnerable to every moment that happens to us. We’re not different people everyday, however we’re on a road to somewhere or nowhere, perhaps just on the road and roads don’t ever stay the same, Betty knows this. The road behind her house on Elm used to be a dirt road when she was six, then there were cobblestones and then asphalt. Always one thing after the other, but still a road. The past, the present, the future. They’re holding hands walking down that road.

Together.

Normalcy calls to them and they sit back down with their friends. Betty thinks it’s the best night she’s had in forever. Sitting on his lap, with friends she truly loves and who truly love her. Feeling safe, happy, celebrating a new year.

They end up hopping over to Chuck’s apartment and stay there till four. Chuck has too many funny stories about Nancy to tell and Nancy has them playing monopoly. There’s wine and pizza and laugher and Jughead always has his soft touch on her on her. And really, she just wants him.

So they make it back to her dorm room. And they use the rest of the night’s energy to make love to each other.

It feels right to start the year like this.

But Betty doesn’t look back on that moment as the start. The night is tainted by what morning brings.

FP Jones dies on New Year’s Day.

•

The drive to Riverdale is quieter than anything she’s ever experienced. Jughead doesn’t cry. Not even in the moment he got the news, no tears, not a word, nothing. He just stood there a little numb, her heart was racing before he told her what happened. Emotionless. She’s the one who decides they need to get there quick and waiting for a train won’t do them any good. He follows her to the car, watches as she throws the bag with their stuff in the backseat.

She starts driving.

She doesn’t know what to say. An hour passes.

On hour two, she stops for gas, Jughead stays in the car. She decides they probably need something in their system and goes to buy something. Cataloging every moment helps her stay in control. She brings him a sneakers bar, chips and coke.

“I’m not hungry.” He tells her.

Betty nods, frowning. “You okay?”

“What the fuck do you think I’m feeling, Betty?” He snaps. She should’ve known his immediate response would be to push her away, close himself off. “Just-“ he blows about a breath. “Drive. We only have an hour to go.”

Her hands grip the steering wheel, she stares at the empty road in front of her, while he turns his head away. For the life of her, she can’t figure out how to be here for him, how to support him. She knows his defense mechanism is to push people away, but somehow, selfishly, she’d thought they’d grown past that with each other. It stings, the coldness of his voice but she’s also grown enough herself to know it’s not about her, not even about them. Jughead’s feelings regarding his father are entirely too complex and layered to think he can even process the news like this. It doesn’t stop her heart from aching for him. He’s hurting, a lot most likely and she hates that his initial reaction is to shut off. Or more so, shut her out.

It occurs to her that this is one of those very grown up kind of moments, oddly enough. She supposes they’ve both grown but it’s impossible to say you’re a fully functioning adult when a year ago, you were in high school, two years ago you were still asking your mom to get out of the house.

It’s one fucking strange limbo to be in, but this moment, this morning, it feels like a signifying mark in saying that this is it. Real things happen to you and a bit more of innocence is lost to a faraway memory. Maybe that is life. Pain solidifies endings, fear perpetuates it.

Cycles, she supposes. Or straight lines at times. FP’s life, a straight line, although most times he couldn’t walk on it. Too wasted to even see it. A part of her is always livid that FP had put his son through so much pain, had put the love of her life through so much pain. And it always pains her to see how much of a toll it takes on Jughead and his own self worth.

When the mocking town with pep sign greets them, Betty realizes she doesn’t really know what to do next. “Do we go to the trailer park?” She questions carefully.

“Drop me off.”

“Jug, I wanna be here for you. And I don’t think I can go to my mom’s place-“

He scoffs. “Of course, Betty, you can’t tell your mother you’re here because your boyfriend’s father is dead since you haven’t told her you’re even with me!”

“Please, can we not fight?”

“Drop me off.”

She pauses and exhales. As if her breath could somehow turn the dagger he’s holding away from her. And then she says it.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m staying. And we’re not going to fight, because I’m here and I’m going to tell my mother and it won’t ever matter what she thinks. I’m your future so I’m not letting you push me away. I love you and I know you’re in pain so I don’t care what you think you need, I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. You’re my priority.”

He doesn’t say another word but she’s not as fickle or as easy to push away as she once was. So, she drives to Sunnyside, parks her car where FP’s truck used to be and gets their bag before stepping out.

But Jughead doesn’t. He’s staring at the place he had lived in for eighteen years of his life like he’s seen a ghost and her heart clenches in her chest as she walks to the passenger side, circling the car and dropping the bag on the floor before opening the door.

“Betts-“ His chest is heaving and he’s looking at her with a desperate look on his face.

“Jug.” She breathes out and kneels down beside him on the dirt.

“I can’t do it.” He cries. The sobs wreck through his body and he’s shaking, so she tries to pull him in somehow, to give him a bit of herself to hold. And he clings to her, face buried in her shoulder.

“I’m here.” She reassures him. She feels like crying too, seeing him in pain has never been her strongest moments but this is different. He’s held her like this many times before and now it’s her turn.

“I can’t-“

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby...it’s okay, I’m here.”

She doesn’t know how long she stays like that with him, how long it takes for his breathing to get somewhat normal, but she doesn’t see its importance. It’s her turn to hold him up now. And she’s going to do just that, every step of the way.

Jughead sleeps clinging to her. It’s a relief that he does. The exhaustion must have taken over because he doesn’t wake in the middle of the night like she’d expected him to. Nevertheless, she doesn’t get much sleep in her worry to make sure he does.

After arriving in Riverdale, at Sunnyside his neighbour had greeted them, Mrs. Fogarty, she’d explained that the community had wanted to help Jughead. He’d always helped out people around him and now it was their turn, so without Jughead even having to think of it, they’d made arrangements and sorted the situation out for him. Ever feeling unworthy of anyone’s kindness, she sits through as Jughead cries, telling her he doesn’t understand why anyone would want to help FP.

“It’s you they want to help, Juggie.” She murmurs as they sit together on the couch, he’s wrapped up in her, his head on her chest. “It’s okay to be helped.”

“I don’t know what to feel.” He confesses quietly and she caresses his hair. “My father- my father, he wasn’t...good. He was never a good father. And I can’t atone for the pain I still feel. At the end of day, he was still someone I loved.” He pauses, gripping her a little tighter. “Betts, I was relieved.” He breathes out. “I always knew it’d end one way or the other. And I think, even after leaving him, I still thought about him and worried. And I think, I was relieved I didn’t have to worry anymore.”

“You can’t help what you feel. Your feelings aren’t wrong. You’ve always told me that.” She tells him. “Your dad hurt you a lot. And you can mourn him and still acknowledge that he did.”

“I feel guilty, you know? That I just left and I didn’t even try to help him.”

“Jug...none of this is your fault. You had no control over the outcome of your father’s failings. You tried. You tried to sober him up, to make him see that there was life beyond the pain. It’s a disease and you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped. You love them and you try to help them but you can’t burn yourself either.”

He stays quiet for a moment but presses a kiss to her chest. “Thank you.” He whispers. “For not letting me push you away. I know I’m not the easiest person. I know it can’t be easy work to stick around.”

“It’s you.” She tells him simply and he lifts his head up to look at her. “It’s you.” She wipes his tears away, repeating the words and nods her head before placing a kiss to his forehead.

•

The day of the funeral, she wakes first to get breakfast from Pop’s, at least to have some sort of comfort in this hellish day. So, she gets in her car and drives to a place filled with childhood memories and lets Jughead sleep longer.

Pop greets her with a smile and she’s instantly filled with warmth, his familiar kindness bringing a glimpse of joy into this dark day. She’s filled with sorrow for Jughead’s pain, for the pain his past inflicted on him and this new blow.

She’s waiting for her order when the shrill of her mother’s voice gets her heart jumping out of her chest.

“Elizabeth?!”

It elicits the same feeling her mother has always elicited. Paralysing fear, like she’s done something wrong, at every icy Elizabeth, she’s feared a slap in the face, a hard shove, to be locked in her room or for some insults to be spit in her face. But today is not a day she’s willing to take abuse. Today she’s sure enough of where her priorities lie and it certainly isn’t abiding to her mother.

“Where you going to call me to let me know you were in town?” Alice questions, in disbelief. “Why are you here?”

“Hi, mom.” She greets, nails digging into her palm. “Sorry. It was last minute.”

“Last minute?! What could possibly be last minute?”

“My friend’s-“ She freezes, rethinking it. No. She wouldn’t. She’d made the decision, it doesn’t matter anymore. Jughead deserves not to be a secret. “My boyfriend’s father passed away.” The words slip out in a more liberating fashion than she had expected but it feels easy. In the middle of everything that has happened. Maybe this is what growing up feels like, maybe it’s learning to let go of things that aren’t worth your pain. “Look, this is not how I wanted to tell you, okay? But just-“

“How dare you? Who is he? Do I know him?”

“Can we sit down, at least?”

A few minutes of Betty going full monologue with her mother gaping at her, she explains that they’ve dated for a while, for a very long while and that he’s not from the Northside. That he went to Riverdale High with her and most of all that she’s found something real and special with him. It ends with her mother fuming, she imagines that the whole entirety of the sin of Wrath lives within her mother.

“Who is he, Elizabeth?”

“Mom, it’s not as though you’d actually know him.”

“Trust me, Elizabeth, I know plenty of Southsiders, I’ve written enough articles on all that scum to know them.”

“He went to Northside and maybe you should get off your high horse before you start insulting my boyfriend.” Betty snaps and it feels like freedom, to talk back and to stand up, not just for herself but for the man she loves. “His name is Jughead Jones.”

In a split second, recognition sparks in her mother’s eyes. “FP Jones’ kid? You’ve got a knack for bad choices, don’t you? The dead beat drunk now actually dead is your boyfriend’s father? Is your boyfriend going down the same path?”

“Stop!” She hits back. “I’m not letting you do this. He’s my boyfriend and I love him. And I’m going to keep loving him, no matter what you think.”

“Child’s play, Elizabeth. I don’t even want to know how you met this boy or what he does for a living. Does he deal drugs? Is that it? That your plan in the future?”

“I don’t even have to respond to your pointless accusations but my boyfriend is the smartest man I know and his kindness alone is enough for me. He gave me every bit of strength to get over your abuse over the years and he loves me for what I am.” She responds, venom in her words but also a fierce protectiveness over her love for Jughead.

Her mother quiets for second and Betty recognises the look on her face. She thinks she’s won, either way. But Betty’s prepared for this. The threats her mother could make, she’s taken precautions. So that’s why, the gamble here, is on her mother’s part.

“If you insist on this childish game of yours, your college money will be taken away. And you can say goodbye to coming home.”

She resists smiling at this.

If her mother were to remove the money from her college account, she’d find it empty. Because that was her plan. By allowing her access to the account months ago, Betty arguing it’d be simpler if she made the payments because thankfully her mother had gone over the deadline on one of them, she’d allowed her to transfer the money to her own.

And that was the only string binding her to a secret.

No string. No need to keep it a secret.

“Riverdale hasn’t been home in a long time.” She stands up and looks her mother in the eye. “Your choice is either swallowing your pride...or losing your daughter. Ball’s in your court.” Betty shrugs. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my boyfriend, mother.”

“I swear to god, if we weren’t in public, I would-“

“What? Hit me?” She challenges. “Goodbye, mom. Maybe you should think about why everyone’s left you. Maybe don’t make the same mistake again.”

•

Jughead is understandably quiet, even as everyone comes up to offer their condolences, he holds onto her hand. And it’s a relief that he is, that she can be here and that he wants her to be. When she’d gotten to the trailer with breakfast, he had pulled her in, burying his face in her shoulder and then placing a kiss to her lips. It makes her think that she wouldn’t mind coming home to him, that she wouldn’t mind waking up to him everyday.

It’s a quiet day, she notices. She lets Jughead be, though he seeks her out, even just to hold her hand when he can. She stays by his side through everything even as someone asks her ‘You’re Alice Cooper’s kid, right?’, there’s an odd tension with Jughead’s childhood friends and she can’t exactly blame them considering all that her mother and her friends had done to them. But that’s all a minor blip in the whole day. Her focus is on Jughead. And making sure he’s somewhat okay and that she gets to support him in any way she can.

When the ceremony is over and people start leaving, she knows Jughead will want a moment alone. “Do you want me to go?” She questions quietly.

“Just give me a couple of minutes.”

She places a kiss to his cheek. “Meet me at the car?” He nods, squeezing her hand in his. Betty walks away, heading for the entrance and towards the parking lot to wait for him.

She doesn’t understand exactly why every moment, ever since they’ve learnt the news of FP, feels monumental in her relationship with Jughead. It’s a new feeling, to have him lean on her, to have him let her take care of him. He’s taken care of her so many times, but Jughead has a difficult time opening up and to have him so clearly allow her into his pain, probably the harshest moment of his life, is a new stage, a new landmark in what’s them. A new proof of their love. That it isn’t just puppy love, like some girls had suggested in New York. The whole I started dating him in high school didn’t go over too well. High School sweethearts, they said, feels like they’re everything, but once High School ends…

They’re wrong, though. She knew it then, knew her love for him was as real as it gets, but this is realer. To witness his vulnerability and to love and care for him, in a deeper, more fundamental way. They’ve grown. He’s grown into someone who can let her in and she’s grown into someone who can be there for him, completely, with no reservations. And that means something. They’re moving through life together. Becoming more intertwined, without a second thought.

When he comes back, she offers him a small smile. “You good?” She asks.

“I will be.” He tells her. “Can we go to our spot? Up the hill?”

Her mind replays the memories as they drive up the hill, Riverdale becoming smaller as they go higher, the whole city before them as they reach the top. It feels so faraway, the memories, the city and the things she used to be so afraid of. She thinks this is the one place in town that it’s always been just the two of them. Every other place was tainted with memories of something else, of someone else but this place, their spot, was theirs alone.

She gets a blanket out and lays it on the hood of the car when they finally get there. And Jughead smiles a real smile at her when they climb up.

“Remember the last time we were here?” He questions.

Betty chuckles softly. “I remember the less than appropriate things we did in this car.”

“Feels like forever ago.”

“Couple years.”

“Yeah...” He nods. “Things are pretty different, huh?”

“Not everything.”

“No. Not everything.” There’s a pause as Jughead looks out at the city and she stays there, looking at him, giving him the space to talk if he wants to. He pulls himself closer to her and she lays her head on his shoulder. Pressing a kiss to her head, he sighs softly. “I wanna remember good things about my dad.”

“That’s...”

“He fucked up a lot, Betts. A lot a lot. Not just with me. I mean, my mom didn’t even come to the funeral, you know? Or say anything. And I understand that.” He shrugs and she watches his face. “There’s a part of me that wanted to tell all those people how shitty he really was. Just scream at them how he hurt me, how he never took care of me.” She can somewhat relate to him, when it comes to her mother but she also doesn’t know what it’s like to lose her like this so she lets him continue. “But then, I also want to forget the bad and just focus on what’s good. Granted it’s not a lot but I don’t want to be angry anymore.”

“Tell me something good?” He smiles softly at her words and Betty sees in that smile an array of emotions and she’s happy she’s one of the few people privileged enough to truly see all of him.

“There was this one time....Jellybean and my mom were still around. There was a month there when I was twelve that he straightened himself out and it was around the time of the carnival so we went to Pickens Park and got to go on all the rides and he was a different man. And Jellybean, she was so freaking happy, you know? He joked around and told me about when he was kid and how the carnival hadn’t changed much. And he looked good and happy and I think...that was the last time I was hopeful for him.” He admits, with a frown. “Sorry, that wasn’t as  joyful  as I thought. But I think it’s the happiest memory I can think of.”

“Your truth, Jug. That’s all it is.” She assures him. And he smiles softly. 

They sit in silence for a moment and Betty takes it all in.. She thinks it’s the first peaceful moment in the last couple of days but she feels it even in Jughead. 

She’s sure this pain he feels won’t be short lived. It’ll be a pain he’ll carry with him, but she’s going to be there to help him carry the load. Betty supposes it’s all the little dents in the armour they’ve both built for themselves that are apart of who they are and they change you, every scrape and bruise, they become indentations in what you are, how you move through life. She has hers, he has his. And they’ve both made indentations in the other, they’ve both hurt each other. And that’s okay. 

Those cuts. Some of them small, some of them a gaping wound are the passage of time. There’s good scrapes, though and there’s brushes across your body of all different colours. You’re never one thing or the other. Laughter can change you just as much as crying. And a kiss can make you discover parts of yourself you never knew existed. Life, as incomprehensible as it may be most time, is a path with detours and shortcuts and pretty pictures and heavy rains on the way to somewhere. Who knows where there is. Or perhaps, there’s no path. And there’s just today. Maybe. Who knows. 

So, they sit. And they watch the sunset. Maybe the sun going down on his father. Maybe watching the sun go down with the knowledge that it’ll rise again. But together, at least. Together. Most cliches are cliches for a reason. They start as universal truths, maybe. Togetherness. Feeling like you belong somewhere. 

So, they sit. And they watch the sunset. Together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally managed to finish this. Sorry lol Hope you like it! Please tell me what you think, it’s always welcome!! 
> 
> Lots of love xx


	3. Wondrous Time

Alice Cooper sits in front of them, in a manner Jughead can only describe as proper. Is there really a proper way to sit and be? Jughead guesses Alice is the epitome of said word. Or posh, somewhere in the middle of human and robot, likely, he has a hard time telling if the woman has any emotions whatsoever. Sitting stoically, watching them, as Jughead peruses the menu, trying very hard not to look directly at her and ignore her entire existence for the moment until he has to. 

Betty’s livid, the kind of anger he can feel radiating off of her, he’s had his hand in her thigh to try to somehow get her to breathe for a moment, but Betty’s breathing out flames and he thinks he doesn’t have much leverage. 

They’d been having a nice extended weekend, Betty having moved into an apartment for the last year of college with Nancy which meant more privacy for them, so Jughead had been making the trek over to New York a few times. This was supposed to be their weekend, an easy one with no distractions, preferably just them in her bedroom. 

It’d been months since she’d last spoken to Alice. And it hadn’t exactly been pretty that last time. Jughead had been right next to her as they both yelled to each other on the phone, had dealt with the breakdown that came after. As much as Betty had let go of her fear and her heartache regarding the lack of love from her mother, it still stung. It would always hurt, Jughead knows this. He feels the same way about his father. A mix of wanting to be loved and understanding that it’s the only place you won’t get the love you deserve. The love you need. 

Alice had shown up in New York, out of the blue, somehow at her doorstep when Betty hadn’t even told her the address, which left little options as to how she obtained the information. Her being here is enough to ruin anything, but it’s even worse when they were content together, cuddling under a blanket, not having seen each other in a month. 

Things between them had solidified. A lot. They were secure in their love for each other, no matter the circumstances, they would deal with things as they came. And he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier in his life, just pure and unflinching happiness. Even in bad days, when they were both irritable and tired, he never worried they’d crash and burn. They could take it, he believes so, at every twist and turn. And that includes Alice Cooper. 

“How did you get my address?” Betty questions. Ever since she decided to stand up for herself against her mother, a layer was formed or maybe it was always there. Betty Cooper can be scary when she’s angry, when she decides she’s done and to be fair, he wouldn’t want to be in Alice’s shoes. It is the same energy like the one he felt when he left his socks on the floor of her bedroom, one on each side of the bed (nevermind that the reason they ended up there was all the more satisfying) and he got the death glare. It scared him and admittedly, turned him on. Not the time though. 

Alice glances at him for a second before turning to her. “Your father.” 

Betty scoffs quietly, shaking her head. “Did you force it out of him?” 

“Well, when my daughter doesn’t come home-“ 

“Phones exist. You could’ve called.” 

“You don’t pick up the phone.” 

“For a good reason.” Betty points out. “I told you I wouldn’t take anymore abuse and this right here, you being in New York, showing up at my apartment is an invasion of my privacy-“

“I have a right to know where my daughter is-“

“You lost that right the minute you abused me and the minute you decided to insult my boyfriend.” She throws back at her mother and he is a little turned on by the look in her eyes and how fucking strong his girlfriend is. Not the time. 

“You fool.” Alice laughs. “It won’t be long until you come crawling back to me. Lowlife scum? That’s your choice? When you’re done slumming it with him, you’ll realize he’s nothing.” 

“Jesus...” Betty shakes her head. “You’re unbelievable. Not even when you’ve lost everyone in your life... Do you think Polly will ever let you near her again? More importantly, do you think I will?” 

Her mother sits stoically, her face void of emotion and Jughead feels compelled to face his mother-in-law (semi, almost, who cares). Feeding off Betty’s strength, he squares up. 

“Mrs. Cooper, I don’t think you understand what you put your daughter through.” 

“Jug...” Betty places her hand on his and he turns to her, shaking his head. 

“Let me, please.” He breathes out and she nods. Jughead faces Alice again. “I love your daughter. And it’s not something to take lightly. I’ve been here since high school and I’ve seen what you did to her, how badly you hurt her. I will never understand why you’d hurt her, why you’d hurt anyone. I protect the ones I love and I will never sit idly by as you berate the love of my life. You’ve insulted me, insulted her, invaded our privacy. How long will it take for you to realize that unless you change, you’ll never have her back?” 

There’s a pause and Jughead can feel his heart in his throat as Alice stays, unwavering in her coldness. He’s surprised that there’s not even a crack in her armour and wonders how Betty put up with this for so long. It’s beyond him how Alice can be so cruel.

Beside him, Betty sighs softly and turns to him. “I think we should go.”

“See that? That’s your daughter giving up on you again.” Jughead says before standing up and getting his wallet out as Betty follows him, standing up herself. He takes money out of his wallet and places it on the table. “Keep the change. Maybe I’m not as deadbeat as you think I am.” 

They make no case of waiting for an answer and instead walk out, holding hands. When they’re safely a few feet away, Betty smiles at him. 

“What are you smiling about?” 

“Love of your life, huh?” She teases, grinning and he rolls his eyes, letting out a soft laugh. 

“You had doubts, did you?” He wraps his arm around her shoulders as they walk. 

She shrugs. “Just nice to hear it out loud, especially when spoken to the she-devil.” 

“Yeah, well, I do plan on sticking around, you know?” He chuckles and leans down to kiss her lips, long enough to almost crash into a few people incoming. 

Ah...New York.

•

In a way, he thinks, he’s glad they went through what they went through. All of it was leading towards a place they needed to be, everything that had hardened them and the things that had softened them were all necessary steps they had to take. Betty has regrets, they speak of it often, even after all the times he’s reassured her they were both young and stupid, therefore had done stupid things, she still hasn’t quite gotten over it all. There’s a part of her that still feels guilty for all the pain her own so called friends inflicted on him, the attacks she watched on the sidelines. 

“If I could, I’d fucking deck them, all of them, in a heartbeat.” 

“Betts.” He smiles softly, enjoying this newfound fierceness in her, something that came along with stepping up to her mother. If you had told high school Jughead that Betty would want to “deck” anyone, he probably would’ve written it off as unlikely, and especially when it came to her friends or whatever they were. But he’s learned since then that they’ve both grown, together and apart. And Betty’s journey to taking ownership of herself had been her own, even if he’d been by her side, cheering her on. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking back then.” She shakes her head. “I was an idiot and I hurt you and I hurt others just because I was scared of my mother, wanting to fit into this bullshit hierarchy.” 

“You were right to be, come on. We were both young and we both did some really stupid shit and it’s fine. We’re here now.” He contests. “That’s what matters.”

“I know...just...I wish I could’ve found the courage sooner.” 

“What matters is that you did.” He reassures her. “And that we’re happy, as happy as we can be with the distance.” With a shrug, he laughs softly, looking at her on a tiny screen, an ache in his heart for her, to be able to hold her. “Things change, Betts. There’s something about that that comforts me.” 

“It frightens me.” She confesses softly. 

“It’s up to us. To make the best of whatever happens. I know I’ve never been an optimistbut I’m sure that we know enough to keep this up. And I want to worry about what right now means and making the best of it.” 

Betty smiles, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “You’ve been very good at saying all the right things lately.”

He smiles softly, shrugging. “I try.” 

“It’s the writer in you.” 

There’s a soft reassurance in the way she says it. As they’re nearing the end of college and the beginning of real adulthood looms, the prospects of a job begin to line up on his list. And although his dream of being published still is very much on the forefront, he knows he needs to find something that’s somewhat stable to actually make a living. He’s been actively sending short stories to magazines and whatnot, doing freelance work but it doesn’t cover everything. But her belief in him, in his writing is always something she makes a point to reinforce. 

“Betts...” He calls out softly, huffing out a laugh when he notices her yawn. 

“Mmmh.” 

“I love you and I love talking to you but you need to go to sleep.” He tells her. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” 

“Can we stay on the call, until I fall asleep?”

“Always.” He smiles. 

Betty smiles back at the camera as she settles in bed. Ever since facing her mother, she’s been much more relaxed, he feels, a lot calmer and a lot more confident after cutting her off. And it’s been a wonder to see unfold, to have their relationship also be in a place of comfort for each other, of love. It’s not as though they never fought or never disagreed, it’s just that the nature of it all feels a lot more trivial and Jughead never feels the same ache he used to feel whenever things got ugly between them. The bigger problem was just distance and how sometimes, phone calls really don’t do justice to what you mean and they’re both irritable sometimes or just tired. But it’s easier to cool off and come out and communicate with the other. 

There was really only one fight that had him driving to New York on an all nighter to set things right and even then, it’d been solved the minute he arrived. He wasn’t going to be there for her birthday and she’d made plans after he had told her he would the week before, but he’d made a mistake and gotten mixed up. She’d been upset and that sadness turned to anger and it’d been stupid enough that he’d powered through the drive. They had both said things they didn’t mean because they were tired and upset and really, missing each other. It was finals week too, on top of it. It was truly meaningless other than the fact that they were both stressed out and that the distance was getting to them and they missed each other more than usual, it’d been a month since they’d seen each other face to face. 

“You’re absolutely insane, driving here over some stupid fight in the rain!” Betty fights back the smile threatens to cross her lips when she opens the front the door.

“It wasn’t stupid. It’s easily solvable but it’s never stupid if it makes you cry. I’m sorry I’m not gonna be here for your birthday and I’m sorry I made a mixed up the days.” 

“How do you expect me to be mad when you just drove eleven hours to see me? I wasn’t even mad anymore! I was just upset!” 

He smiles, crossing the distance between them with a step and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, you idiot.” She shakes her head. 

Popping out of the kitchen with a mug in her hand is Nancy with a grin on her face. 

“You two are nauseating, I hope Chuck and I are way cooler than that.” Nancy fake gags, playfully looking at them as they stand in the doorway. 

“You’re way worse, Nance, don’t worry.” Betty calls back before turning to Jughead to press her lips to his. 

“And that would be my cue.” Nancy laughs, placing her mug down before walking to the front door, pushing them out of the way. “Have fun, kids, I’m going to Chuck’s.” As she’s walking out, she turns around with a smirk. “Wear protection, no need for godchildren just yet, I’m broke!” 

Laughing, they shut the door and hurriedly press their lips together, trying to make the most of the time they have. 

•

Summer brings a new light. And a new road to walk on. Jughead rubs her bare back, steadily. It’s hot. Summer is clawing at their skin but he thinks he couldn’t be more content, than here, with her, even when her AC is broken. He’s been dreaming of a quiet future with her, of quiet mornings and quiet nights, a life that is more than what he thought he deserved. He’s grown enough to want more than what he once thought was all there was. He’s grown enough to know he wants happiness and that happiness lies with her. 

College is ending. The three years are up and they’re in the place they discussed of ‘we’ll see what happens’. What happens to be happening is them, happy, together and quite frankly there were moments Jughead didn’t think they’d make it and he will never take it for granted but he’s more sure in their future than he’s ever been. 

“I can hear your brain.” Betty murmurs and he laughs softly and she lifts her head up to look at him. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

He pauses his thoughts to press his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “College is ending.” He whispers and she still, gauging his face for what’s coming next. “What happens now?” He watched her, how her expression is calm and there’s a hint of happiness in her eyes. 

“You mean with us?” She asks quietly. 

“I mean what do you want to do next?” 

“I got into Law School.” She tells him. “I got the letter today and I wanted to tell you, but you sorta jumped on me.” She breathes a soft laugh and then gulps, touching his cheek with her fingers. “I really want to do it. I think I can do it. All my professors insisted on it when I was having second thoughts. But I want to. It’s what I want.” 

He nods his head. “I’m proud of you, Betts. You’ll make a hell of a lawyer.” He grins, pecking her lips. 

“So, I’ll be in New York for the next three years.” He doesn’t know exactly what she’s thinking and he believes his decision has been made since the first time they broached the subject, even though he hadn’t voiced it yet. “What do you want to do?” 

“How about I move to New York?” He questions softly. 

She pauses, staring at him a moment. “Jug, I can’t just...ask you to-“ 

“You’re not.” He shakes his head, moving so she lies down and he’s on his side looking at her. “I have no ties to where I’m living, apart from a few friends who are all moving out of state. But I have you. And if you’re in New York and I can make the choice, then I’m here.” He tells her. 

“Jug...” She breathes out and then pulls him down to her, kissing his lips. Jughead laughs against her lips, turning them so she’s on top of him. They kiss lazily for a moment, hearts buzzing with happiness and then Betty stops to look at him, hand on his chest. Her body is sweaty and she looks absolutely ethereal, messy hair and bright green eyes staring down at him. He’d give her anything, he wants to mark her happy forever, just as he had the first summer they’d spent together, kissing in cars and streets that didn’t belong to them. It feels so long ago, they’d lived so much more together, grown so much. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll chase this woman wherever she went. 

“What?” He breathes. 

“Well...if you’re in New York and I’m in New York, then we could...move in together.” There’s a slight waver that betrays the determination her eyes. And he sucks in a breath. 

“Betty, I don’t want to pressure you to-“ 

“I want to.” She shrugs, with a smile. “I can put up with your inability to match your socks and you can deal with my hair ties around the house-“

“And the forgotten cereal bowls on your nightstand.” 

“Toilet seat up.” She retaliates. “I know what I’m setting myself up for.” She grins as he flips them to tickle her mercilessly. Their laughter echoes off the walls, with every bounce back a new wave of happiness jolts through her. He stops his attack and they regain their breathing, there’s a moment of silence as he hovers above her. 

“Are we doing this?” He asks, his voice is gentle as the look in her eyes. 

“I’m game, if you are.” 

There’s a jolt of electricity that curses through him. Another chapter, another path they’re taking together. For all the hardship and the rough waters, finally getting to a moment where he doesn’t feel scared about the future with her is a feeling unlike any other. That they’re ready to take a new step together towards building their now and dream of what’s next. It feels so right, so perfectly falling into place. 

_I’ll love you for a lifetime._

•

They search for an apartment all summer while staying at the apartment Betty and Nancy share. Chuck is staying there too, rather living since that’s really the plan for them. And they’re hoping by the end of the summer they’ll have found a place to live in where the meaning of cozy isn’t a shoebox. 

Until then, they’re still living together. And it’s been an actual dream, to actually be, in their own time after so long apart. They’d discussed that patience would be needed, they’d need to learn to adjust to each other but thankfully they’d gotten better at communicating with each other over the past three years. For every little pet peeve formed or way of doing things found that was obviously different from the other, they’d come to an understanding fairly quick. And it’d been reassuring that this was what they were now. That they’d matured enough to have this. The simplicity of building a life alongside each other, with all the complexities that came in between. 

Jughead had gotten a job at a small magazine. It’s an entry level job, obviously, and it doesn’t exactly pay a whole lot but it’s enough for now. They both had savings from over the years and Betty still had some of her college money, the one leverage her mother used to have along with her part time job. With her going to law school come September, he wanted them to be somewhat secure, financially, he doesn’t want her to worry when she would have enough on her mind. It’s not the happiest he’s been, when he’s working but he needs the money. Small steps, small sacrifices to get them to a better future or until (if in his opinion, no matter how Betty believes in him) he gets published. He’s sure Betty will kick everybody’s ass in Law School, he’s biased but he knows her determination. Betty Cooper will be, as he had once put it, a badass lawyer. 

“Jug, I think that’s a blood stain on the carpet.” Betty grimaces as they’re being shown the apartment. He thinks from the moment they walked in, this wouldn’t be it. He feels as though he’s caught 10 diseases just from breathing in this places 

“You sure it isn’t wine?” Jughead winces, quietly whispering. That settles it that they’re not staying in the apartment and if that hadn’t done it, the accumulated grease popping out from under the stove ought to do it. 

It’s not until the next month that they find a place to live. An ex colleague of Chuck is moving out of the city and they’d reached out, asking if Chuck knew anyone in need of an apartment. And there they were. 

The apartment isn’t the greatest apartment there ever was but it’s nice, it’s conveniently close to Betty’s law school and the rent isn’t outrageous, it’s within their budget. When they go to check it out, Chuck’s friend’s things are still in there and it’s made to be homey and warm and inviting and by seeing it, Jughead thinks they can make it their own until they can afford something better, something that’s more along the lines of what they see for the future. Betty falls for the window seat in the living room and that’s enough for the deal to be sold for him. He can imagine her reading a book in the morning sun as he types into his laptop. He’s a sucker for aesthetically pleasing images and Betty Cooper happens to be his life aesthetic. 

Jughead feels embarrassingly giddy when move in day comes along. He doesn’t exactly have much stuff at his back, he’s never been much of a hoarder and he’d gotten used to having enough to carry with him when things weren’t great at home. He’s never really had a real home either, not when his bedroom was the pullout couch at the trailer. All he has is clothes, his records and his record player he’d brought from Riverdale, his books and a cool lamp he’d bought for his dorm room back in the beginning of college. 

Betty has a lot more to carry. Her room is filled with tidbits and picture frames and her furniture and her plants. They’re keeping it, minus the hideous chandelier she’d bought off a street sale and the flower patterned comforter he’d left a spaghetti sauce stain on. Neither of them really cared for it and Betty insisted that they needed something that was a little more them. 

“How the fuck do they expect people to do this?” Chuck groans, flipping through the instruction manual. “Fuck Swedish people, man.” 

Betty laughs, looking at the parts of what would be their couch on the floor of their living room. Her and Nancy had taken over putting shelves together and their job seemed fairly less complicated than a couch. “Chuck, weren’t you bragging about being the king of IKEA last night?” She teases. 

“I was three glasses of wine in, don’t throw this at me.” He points his finger at her. “We can do it. Right, Forsythe?” 

“No matter how long it takes.” Jughead sighs, shaking his head. “And thanks, Betts, for telling them my real name. I’ll never live it down.” She smirks at him, not the least bit sorry, though it had been accidental. 

“It’s such a nice name though.” Chuck grins. “At least it’s not Swedish.” 

“It’s alright, boys, once we’re done here, we can put the couch together.” Nancy laughs, winking at them. “I know Betty will probably have you guys beat.” 

Jughead smiles. “She definitely will.” 

“Get that dopey fucking smile off your face and help me, Jones!” Chuck groans. 

It’s late when they finish assembling everything and actually sit on the couch they built, with pizzas on the floor and few beers on the improvised coffee table made of IKEA cardboard boxes that they’ll eventually change even though Nancy fully decided that it’d be her next project. 

The exhaustion of the day seeps in and as they laugh, sitting together, Betty leaning against him and their friends keeping up the energy they never seem to run out of, he feels grateful. With the place feeling a little more like home, it truly feels like the turning of a page. And with Betty in his arms, tired but blissfully happy, he’s once against even more sure of their future, but eager to enjoy where they are, with no rush for whatever comes next. 

He likes it where they are. From high school shrouded in the secrecy of their love, making out in empty classrooms, sneaking off to nearby towns to be someone else for the night to being separated in college and fighting for their relationship amidst everything that life threw at them. And now, here, in this moment, finally reducing the distance to nothing. 

It’s not a happy ending. He thinks of the dream he used to have in high school of them, that this would be their happy ending. When they could finally be together, when they could build something together. This idea of a warm and quiet life. 

He sees now how wrong he was to think of happy endings. There’s no such thing. Life is continuous and you could be happy in a moment and miserable in the next. This isn’t an ending, it’s a moment, another moment in what he hopes he can maintain a long story. The story of them. 

And god, he was so foolish to think quietness would be the dream. Nothing about their love is quiet and nothing about the city is quiet and Nancy isn’t quiet when she argues that Betty’s favorite pizza place is in no way the best in the city, their laughter isn’t quiet. It’s colorful. Life is colorful and as a man who’s always worn mostly dark clothing, he has no shame in admitting that all those colors are what makes life worthwhile. No need to brood in black, although it’s a fine color. Like the green in her eyes when she smiles back at him, it’s alive. 

And it’s home. For the first time in his life, Jughead has a home. A real one, with a great variety of mugs on cupboards, her books merging with his on the shelf. And two of the same record, his found in Riverdale, at the Drive In, hers bought off the internet, from when they were two teenagers, sitting next to each other, under the record player, the two vinyls ending up in the same place, forged from the same string. 

He’s still a little unsure about why they need so many pillows though, but he’ll figure out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof that took a while but here it is!! I am planning on continuing on their story so this is where we are for now! Like in the chapter, it’s just another moment in their life and I want to explore more of them! Thank you guys for reading it! 
> 
> Lots of love xx

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, long time, no see!!! Hope you like it! Tell me what you think!


End file.
